


Live Laugh Love

by jellybeanforest



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comedy, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Lovers' Quarrel, M/M, POTS Stony Stocking, Slice of Life, Steve Rogers can hold a grudge, Steve Rogers is a little shit, apology, petty revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28031919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeanforest/pseuds/jellybeanforest
Summary: Steve has the worst taste in home décor. Tony is at the end of his rope.For BladeoftheNebula for the POTS Stony Stocking 2020.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2020





	Live Laugh Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BladeoftheNebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladeoftheNebula/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [BladeoftheNebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladeoftheNebula/pseuds/BladeoftheNebula) in the [stony_stocking_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2020) collection. 



> This is for BladeoftheNebula as part of the 2020 Stony Stocking. 
> 
> Based on their prompt: “Steve starts buying really tacky home decorations and knick knacks and filling the penthouse with it. Tony HATES it but also doesn’t want to upset Steve because he seems to love them and he wants him to be happy. Steve is totally messing with Tony.”

“I didn’t know they made the ‘Live Laugh Love’ slogan in neon bar lights,” Tony says, his expression flat and eye twitching.

Steve is exuberant, like a goddamn puppy dragging a chewed-up, nonfunctional Frisbee to his owner. “They don’t, but this woman had one made special after her divorce. She’s getting remarried, and her fiancé asked her to get rid of it as a wedding present to him. She was just giving this away on the Craigslist. Can you believe that, Tony?”

He can’t believe this keeps happening.

“No…” Tony replies, barely managing to not choke on the reply. This time. Because it had to be the fifth such occasion in the past two weeks where Steve had wondered in with a thrift store or garage sale find he paid a dollar for at most (and he likely overpaid at that). Tony couldn’t figure out his deal. Was his atrocious style a holdover from the Great Depression? Early- (or rather regular-)onset senility? Selective blindness?

“I just had to snap it up, before anyone else could swoop in and get it,” Steve continues, seemingly unaware of Tony’s inner turmoil, at his boyfriend’s absolute bewilderment at the man’s utter lack of taste.

“I’m sure you had to beat off your competitors with a stick.”

Did Steve have a text alert set up for the tackiest décor possible? Tony would be impressed and borderline amused if the thing he knew was about to happen didn’t happen every single time.

“Yeah, but I messaged her right away, and it’s first come, first serve, you know,” Steve says, surveying his surroundings. “So, where do you think we should put this? I was thinking the entryway, so people can see it when they first walk through the door.”

Perhaps if Tony uses some very heavy, very powerful machinery in the lab, he can shake the entire house and manage to dislodge Steve’s latest abomination from its perch on high. The destructive impulse makes him feel guilty. Steve had moved in with him, but he had precious little in the way of personal possessions. Tony should let him have this…

Tony eyes the sign. “Something like this– it’s an accent piece, and I don’t want it to be overshadowed by the chandelier in the adjoining living room. How about we put all your… wonderful collectibles into your office so you can look at them all together?” he suggests, emphasizing: “In one place. Together.”

And quarantined to one room, of course.

Steve can have his man cave, and fill it with all the tacky shit his heart desires. His collection of lava lamps and the inflatable chair with no back support whatsoever that had to be re-inflated every three days, the pink flamingo with the fake sunglasses and the gaggle of pet rocks with their googly eyes…

Tony doesn’t understand it. Steve is an artist. He can’t possibly–

“But I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the joys of your generation,” Steve says, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of spite.

Oh, that jackass. That absolute dickhead. Was this entire thing about that off-handed comment Tony had made last month?

“Look, I said I was sorry. Baseball is not even that boring. I could probably sit through a five-hour game waiting for one team to break a 2-2 tie.” With enough Ritalin, anything is possible.

“It is an American institution,” Steve says, still holding the ridiculous Live-Laugh-Love slogan in front of him like a techno sign spinner.

Tony can’t take him seriously. “Give me that,” he plucks it from his arms and sets it aside, next to the aesthetically-pleasing accent table his interior designer had had made to match the room. “Okay, I get the lava lamps, pet rocks, and even the inflatable furniture,” – they were all popular among Gen X-ers at one point or another – “but what’s with the pink flamingo?”

“You leave Kevin out of this.”

“He has a _name_.”

_Great. That’s… that’s just fantastic._

But Steve is not done. “It was Game 5 of the National League Championship, and the Dodgers were going to clinch the championship for the first time in nineteen years when you short-circuited the house at a crucial moment.”

Okay, so maybe it was about more than the one isolated comment.

“They lost the World Series to the Astros, Steve. The Astros,” Tony points out.

“But they had a chance! They went seven games, and besides, I’m not even talking about the World Series. I’m talking about the pennant. That they won. I missed it, and you couldn’t even muster up a real apology.”

“Okay, Steve… I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. I’m sorry I caused you to miss something that was very important to you,” Tony begins.

Steve waits.

Tony sighs. “And I’m sorry I didn’t validate your feelings at the time, and wrote it off as just a glitch, a cost of doing business. It was important to you, and I should have recognized that.”

The tension leaves his boyfriend’s shoulders as his face relaxes. “Thank you, Tony. That’s all I wanted.”

“Now… is it okay with you if we destash all this tacky crap you’ve collected over the past two weeks?” Tony is donating that Live-Laugh-Love sign to the first drunk Yoga place he can find. “Please.”

“Kevin stays.”

Okay, Tony can live with that.

“Deal.”


End file.
